


Bringing Greg Home

by Mystradigans



Series: Just a chubby, ginger kid with no friends [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystradigans/pseuds/Mystradigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SEQUEL TO SHERLOCK'S TOOTH</p><p>Greg is coming over and Mycroft is terrified. Surely once Greg sees how different Mycroft's life is to his, he wouldn't want to be friends anymore. Or maybe he'll find out about Mycroft's more-than-friendly feelings towards him first and will be too freaked out to speak to him ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bringing Greg Home

**Author's Note:**

> By Emily- sequel to last week's oneshot.

It had been three weeks and one day since Mycroft had first become friends with Greg Lestrade- and yes, he had been counting- and in that time, Mycroft had gone over to Greg's four times. The first had been on the day they'd decided to be friends after a brief incident with Sherlock's teeth and Greg's finger had left Mycroft crying in the bathroom and Greg trying to comfort him, and the other three had come afterwards. At each visit, Mycroft had been greeted by Greg's family- he lived with his Mum, his Grandma, his two sisters and his large tabby cat- who were of course used to the popular Greg bringing over his many friends all the time. Greg's house was normal: three-and-a-half bedrooms (Greg slept in the half) with a sitting room and a kitchen and a garden. At Greg's house, they played shooting games on his PlayStation, watched TV and ate ice cream straight from the tub. And that was great. The trouble was that now it was Greg's turn to come over to Mycroft's.

Mycroft had never had a friend round before (he'd never had a friend full stop before Greg) and he was completely terrified at the prospect. For one thing, Holmes Manor, which was where he lived, was a bit different to Greg's house. It was three stories high with over twelve acres of land and had twenty-three bedrooms, four of which were in use. There was a ballroom and several different dining rooms for different occasions including one which was only used on the 29th of January each year to commemorate the birth date of the first Mycroft Holmes, who'd founded the legacy and had the house built. The kitchen was somewhere in the servants quarters and there were stables at the back of the mansion that hadn't been used for centuries. And when Greg saw all this, he was going to find out just how different Mycroft's life was to his and there was no way he'd still want to be friends after that.

And then of course there was the small matter of Mycroft's family. Mycroft lived with his Father (although Siger Holmes wasn't ever home), his Mother, who was, well, very different to Greg's who smiled and chatted and made cookies, Anthea, who wasn't related to him but was some sort of assistant/bodyguard/Nanny to various members of the family, and Sherlock who was 5 and had taken a chunk out of Greg's finger the first time he met him. So, Mycroft concluded, if the house didn't scare Gregory off, he'd be running from the hills after meeting his family.

So altogether, Mycroft was dreading Greg's visit. Which was unfortunate really because it was Wednesday and he was coming over today.

"Ready to go?" asked Greg when Mycroft approached him at three fifteen. Mycroft just nodded, feeling like he might be sick from nerves. He really couldn't afford to lose Greg's friendship after all and of course it didn't help that his stomach was fluttering with the butterflies he usually got when he was standing close to the other boy. Greg was looking especially attractive today- he'd spilt blue paint on himself in Art and his white shirt was spattered with the stuff, which somehow only served to draw attention to his slim frame. Mycroft realized he was staring again and hastily looked away, purposely not meeting Greg's warm brown eyes.

When Mycroft went to Greg's house, they walked home, stopping off at the cornerstone on the way so Greg could get a Mars Bar. Mycroft's house was too far to walk to and he wasn't allowed to take the bus due to the kidnapping risk (the armed security guards that followed him everywhere might draw attention to themselves were they to hop on the 3.25 to Brighton) and so it was Anthea who picked them up outside the school in a reinforced black cab.

"You must be Greg" she said, without looking in their direction as they climbed into the car.

"Uhm, yeah. Hi" Greg greeted.

"This is Anthea" Mycroft told him. "She's, umm.."

"I'm the Holmes family's live in assistant" she explained quickly. "But I also double as their security, bodyguard or Nanny depending"

"Er.. right" said Greg.

Mycroft glanced at him. If Greg was creeped out by Anthea, Mycroft did not want him to meet his Mother.

Soon enough they were pulling up outside the Manor. Greg followed Mycroft through the gate until he came face-to-face with the biggest house he'd ever seen in his life. It was so big that he couldn't even look at it for too long without getting dizzy; higher than a fir tree and wider than Greg's entire street. 

"Um. Uh. Um. Wow.." he mumbled and Mycroft beside him stared at his feet, like he tended to do in situations like this one. "It's massive"

Mycroft nodded.

"It's.. well it's.. Why didn't you tell me you were this rich?" he asked incredulously.

Shrugging, Mycroft slowly forced himself to look at Greg's face. He was relieved to find that his friend was smiling.

"Sorry, I just didn't realise- did you not want me to know?" he questioned. "Is it another Mycroft-thing?"

Slowly, Mycroft nodded again. "You're not angry with me? For keeping it from you, I mean"

"Of course not" Greg assured him. "I'm just a bit surprised is all. Is this why you didn't invite me over until now?"

"One of the reasons."

"Right. Ok" said Greg. "Shall we-... am I allowed in?"

Mycroft smiled. "Of course." Anthea opened the door and Greg followed Mycoft inside, gasping as he did at the grandeur of it all. They made it halfway up the first set of stairs before a voice called from his Mother's tearoom.

"Mycroft? Come here please"

Mycroft hurried back down the steps, entering the tearoom with Greg right behind him. It was a stuffy room, decorated in various shades of pink, purple and eggshell cream. His Mother was lying draped across the Chaise Lounge, her curly brown hair cascading onto the overstuffed cushions.

"Yes, Mother?" he asked, keeping his voice emotionless.

"Sherlock got into a fight at school today, Mycroft. I need you to deal with him"

"Yes, Mother" Mycroft said obediently.

His Mother sighed. "I'm tired, Mycroft, I can't do this. Why are you so late home?"

It was a rhetorical question so Mycroft kept his head down and his mouth shut.

"What was your Father thinking, leaving me all alone with two children? You have no idea how hard it is for me"

Mycroft felt the guilt stab his heart despite the rational part of his mind reminding him that Anthea had been home all day and that there were plenty of maids and cooks downstairs if Mrs Holmes needed anything.

"I'm sorry, Mother. This is Gre-"

"This is what?" snapped Mrs Holmes, noticing Greg for the first time. "Who is this, Mycroft?"

"This is Greg. I told you he was coming"

Greg gave a little wave.

"Oh! I must have forgotten! I'm so sorry Mycroft, darling, I'm the worst mother in the world! I've just been so busy-"

"No matter" Mycroft said quickly, feeling guilty that he'd made her think she was a bad parent. "We'll be in my room if you need us"

"Don't forget to deal with Sherlock" his mother said hastily.

Mycroft nodded and escaped with Greg, pulling him upstairs to his room. There was no way he was going anywhere near Sherlock until Greg was gone- he could tell his brother off a bit later, not that it would have any affect.

The room was big, with royal blue walls and a wooden floor. There was nothing there to suggest that the owner of the room was a teenage boy- no TV or video games, no photographs or posters and certainly no piles of dirty clothes. Mycroft hopped onto the four poster bed and sat cross-legged on one of the pillows so Greg sat next to him.

"So.. your Mum was nice" he said awkwardly, because in truth she had scared him quite a bit.

"Sorry about that" Mycroft sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "She can be a bit stressy sometimes"

"Yeah" Greg said, because he didn't know what else to say. Mycroft watched him from the corner of his eye because he couldn't quite bear facing him. "Are you OK?"

"Me?" asked Mycroft in confusion. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

The other boy glanced at him. "I don't know. You look sad"

Mycroft uncrowded his legs and turned to lie on his side so he could see Greg. "You... still want to be friends with me right? Now you know about my house and my Mum and Anthea and everything"

"Is that what's bothering you?" asked Greg. Mycroft nodded, his cheeks going pink. Greg sighed. "Of course I'm still your friend, Myc. Does it make you want to be friends with me less when you see how small my house is compared to yours?"

"No" Mycroft said truthfully. "But my Mother-"

"My Dad was much worse than your Mum" Greg told him. "He walked out on us when I was five. But that doesn't make me a worse person. When are you going to get it into your head that I don't care how rich you are of what colour your hair is? I like you for you, Mycroft"

The ginger boy blushed and hid his face in his hands. "I like you for you too, Greg" he whispered.

Greg stretched out so he was lying like Mycroft was and gently touched his shoulder. After a pause in which both boys thought a few things over and Mycroft felt his heart beat faster and butterflies fly around in his belly from being so close to his friend, Greg leaned in ever so slightly and took a deep breath.

"Do you, like, like me Mycroft?" he asked, his voice going soft and a little deeper.

Mycroft's face flushed an even darker red and he stared at Greg's stomach for a while before nodding slowly. At once, he let out a mortified whimper and curled himself up into the fetal position, holding his arms and legs tight around his body and burying his face into his knees. His eyes brimmed with tears- tears of shame for the feelings he had towards his friend and humiliation at Greg finding out. Surely now, Greg would be disgusted by the thought of such an ugly, unworthy person having a crush on him. He couldn't quite hold back the one, muffled sob that shook his body.

"Oh, come on now, please don't cry!" Greg begged. "You know it makes me cry when you cry!" And sure enough, Greg started crying as well, sniffing and laughing at the same time. "It's alright Mycroft, I like you too! As, well, as more than a friend" he said, touching Mycroft's side with a warm, slightly sweaty palm. Mycroft slowly opened his eyes and peeked up at Greg from over his knees.

"Really?" he asked cautiously. "Are you.. are you telling the truth?"

"Yep" Greg promised, smiling as he wiped his eyes on the back his free hand. "I fancy you, Mycroft Holmes. I have done for like two months now"

"Are you sure?" demanded Mycroft, his face breaking into a big smile. "How do you know?"

"I guess I've always thought you were cute" Greg shrugged. "You work really hard and you're really smart and stuff, and that's amazing. I liked how you always used to blush when I spoke to you- it was adorable how shy you were. And I just started getting this little skippity thing in my heart whenever I thought about you, and that's when I realized it was 'cos I fancied you. Oh, and I liked your hair"

Mycroft beamed at the compliment towards his hair: Greg knew how self-conscious he was about that. He dried his tears and pulled himself completely out of his fetal position to give Greg a tight hug. Greg laughed and pressed a kiss onto his cheek, grinning as he saw Mycroft's ear turning pink.

"So Mycroft" he smiled. "Would you like to be my boyfriend from now on?"

Mycroft nodded shyly, feeling the butterflies dance around his stomach in glee. "I-I'd like that a lot, Greg"

"Me too!" Greg giggled and Mycroft started to chuckle, and soon both boys were laughing hysterically and rolling around the bed like crazy people. And Mycroft had never felt happier.


End file.
